


Willing Prisoner

by HerberGegus



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Axe isn't that bad I promise, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, Drift has PTSD, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Violence, Wing tries his best to help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 12:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15291573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerberGegus/pseuds/HerberGegus
Summary: The galaxy's most feared Decepticon turns into the galaxy's worst roommate.





	Willing Prisoner

Deadlock had been standing on the stairs of whatever building he’d been drug to by Wing for what felt like cycles.  He wanted answers, he wanted a ship, and he wanted even more to be away from the leering optics of the shimmering city’s citizens. Despite his new slimmer frame he still screamed Decepticon. No matter how “neutral” a bot was fangs, claws, and the badge welded to his chest were still off putting. He slouched against the wall watching as optics scanned his frame then quickly darted away, his audials full of the sounds of not so quiet whispers. Deadlock couldn’t quite blame them though, he found them all just as odd. Factionless. Carefree. Weaponless. Smiling and talking without fearing for their life. Every building intact, no blood soaking the streets, if he was a believer he would have thought he died and joined the Allspark. It all felt so fake and frail.

By the time he saw a flash of white and red he recognized he’d kicked a rut into the ground in front of him with the tip of his pedde. He’d opened his mouth to complain to the other mech but paused when he saw the tension in his frame. Whatever had just happened hadn’t been pleasant, so Deadlock settled for snide comment instead of complaining.

“Trouble in paradise?” he sneered at the bot a few steps below.

“ _Come with me_ ” Wing didn’t even bother looking back to see if Deadlock was following before he walked away.

The Decepticon hadn’t expected such a serious tone, but he grinned at getting a rise out of the other mech and followed. Deadlock hung a few feet back carefully taking in his surroundings, planning future escape routes. Wing lead him to a plain looking building with a wide open room and tossed the sword strapped to his back onto the ground.

“What does this stand for?” Wing pointed to the purple symbol welded to Deadlock’s chest, made of his own spark chamber. So Deadlock gave him the usual spiel about strength, power, and conviction. Not that he necessarily believed that, being a Decepticon meant something far different to Deadlock. But he wasn’t going to give some neutral he just met his whole life story. “So, you’re the best then-the strongest-and because of that you should rule?”

“Yes.”

“Prove it. No guns. No swords. Prove it” Deadlock was never one to turn down a fight especially not one where he was trying to prove a point. He lunged at the other mech and received a palm to his chin knocking his helm back. Deadlock was knocked back far easier than he was used to and landed hard on the ground. His new frame was much lighter than he'd thought. But he quickly stood back up and took another swing at his opponent. Deadlock didn't even manage to scrape him as Wing stepped out of his way and lodged an elbow into his spinal struts. Deadlock landed face down with a loud thud.

" _Prove it._ " Wing repeated as the Decepticon hefted himself onto his hands and knees. All Deadlock could think of as he rose to his peds was wiping the smug look off Wing's face. So with a frustrated shout that's exactly what Deadlock aimed for. Wing caught Deadlock's fist before the blow could make contact and buried his knee in his opponent's midsection. The air was knocked from Deadlock's vents as he crumpled to the ground once more. "We're going to do this  _every_ day. Every day, I'm going to give you a chance to prove me wrong. If you beat me, you’re free to walk out of here. If you don’t-”

" _If I don't?_ " Deadlock interrupted, glaring upwards.

"If you don't," Wing continued, "you're here. Forever" 

“Some deal, you’ve had _years_ of training.” Deadlock growled at his now warden.

“And you haven’t?”

“Not without a gun.”

“ _So learn, Decepticon.”_ The smug look on Wing’s face filled Deadlock with enough anger to get him back on his peddes, bare his fangs, and go for one last blow. Which landed him right back on the cool metal of the floor below.

 

Wing left the Con to stew in his anger while he sat on a bench against the wall and sharpened the great sword he’d discarded earlier. The sound of slow even strokes of stone against steel accompanied by Wing’s humming was enough to drive Deadlock mad. Wing had hoped that Deadlock would take the time to sit and reflect on the lesson he was trying to teach. He meant for the mech to learn something from the defeat. Wing should have known better. 

“So where will you be keeping me? I can’t imagine this friendship circle has a prison. Unless it isn’t as peaceful and perfect as you all make it out to be.” Deadlock glared from where he stood across the room leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Wing didn't bother to look up from the blade in his lap and took his time with replying, which angered Deadlock even more. 

“When we have issues, we focus on rehabilitation not punishment.” Wing finally replied, pausing to examine his work so far and test the edge of the sword with his thumb. Maybe it wasn't to his liking, or maybe he just wanted to continue to annoy the Decepticon. As he laid the sword back down and continued to sharpen it, Deadlock decided it was the latter. 

“So you really do all hold hands and sing your problems away. And here I thought I was just being mean.” He flashed a grin hoping to get a rise out of the other mech, but Wing didn't even bother to look up.

“Well, you might as well get used to it. Based on your performance today you’ll be here awhile.” Wing was finally satisfied with the sharpness of his blade and placed it on his back. He stood without another word and started towards the door. Deadlock had been defeated both physically and conversationally and couldn’t stand it. He could feel the smug look on Wing’s face and that made his energon boil. Deadlock was a Decepticon after all, fair fighting wasn’t exactly in the job description, so he didn’t feel any guilt when he lunged at the mech currently walking away from him. Wing side stepped to avoid Deadlock’s grip and wrapped his hands around the Con’s arm. He sent him flying over his shoulder and tumbling out of the open door without second thought.

“You’ll never get the drop on anyone stomping like that, Decepticon.” Wing spared him a quick glance as he stepped over him and continued down the street. Deadlock let out a frustrated growl as he left a dent in the metallic floor with his fist.

 

Wing lead him to a tall shimmering white and blue building near where he’d been taken after waking with his new frame. He assumed he was in the heart of the city given the dense population and architecture. Not that he knew much about actually being _in_ cities. Deadlock had lived a charmed life in dank disgusting alleyways and prison cells, when he was conscious and sober enough to even know where he was. Like everything else about Crystal City, the interior of the building was pristine and far too bright for his optics. What appeared to be the lobby was immaculate and lacking the hoards of wounded bots he was used to seeing. Every building on Cybertron had turned into a makeshift hospital or impromptu base for whatever faction had seized it. No, everyone in this room was intact, healthy, and smiling. The only smiles Deadlock had seen in years were devil’s grins and the smiles of murderers over their victims. A genuine laugh from a small mech to his left sounded like another language. He watched the bot as he received a kiss from the one who’d made him laugh. Such a sweet and loving gesture, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something like that. Deadlock suddenly found the floor more interesting than anything else in the room and kept his optics firmly on it. That was until Wing suddenly stopped in front of him. Wing had been stopped by a large gunmetal grey and yellow mech with swords on both hips and one mounted on his back.

“For a bunch of _peace_ loving neutrals, you all carry a ridiculous amount of swords.” Deadlock sneered at the stanger over Wing’s shoulder. He heard Wing release the air in his vents at his remark.

“What,” the swordsmech shot Deadlock an ice cold glare, “ _is he doing here._ We talked about this, Wing. _His kind_ could influence our people.”

“Maybe your people shouldn’t be so easily influenced.” Deadlock glared right back, taking a step forward.

“Listen here, Decepticon-”  The other mech stepped closer as well, pointing a finger at him.

“What, _deserter?_ ” Deadlock hissed as his servos formed fists at his sides.

“ **_Enough!_ ** ” Wing held his servos up to keep the two arguing bots from getting any closer to each other and himself. “People are starting to stare, Axe, and I know that isn’t what you want. He doesn’t have anywhere else to stay. Unless you’re opening your doors-”

“ _Never._ Not to a Decepticon.” Axe hissed.

“So much for neutral huh-” 

“ _Deadlock._ ” The fins framing Wing’s face twitched in aggravation. “I was told to not let him out of my sights, where do you propose he stays?” Axe faltered, Wing had finally said something the other couldn’t argue with.

“Fine. But you know Dia Atlas’ orders. He talks to no one and he goes nowhere alone. I’ll be checking up on the two of you.” Axe gave them both a disapproving once over before walking off.

“He’s a good bot,” Wing explained, “just misguided. He doesn’t know _you_.”

“ _You_ don’t know me.” Deadlock was quick to point out. They had just met two days prior and one of those days he had spent offline being rebuilt. They didn’t exactly have a rich history and Deadlock wasn’t one who shared his life story with just anyone.

“I know you’re more than what everyone thinks you are.” Wing turned to face him, “And I know you’re more than what you make yourself out to be.” And Wing smiled before turning back around and continuing through the lobby. Deadlock was frozen in place for a moment as his processor was sent years into the past. To the first time someone had shown him that same naive and stupidly optimistic smile. Gasket’s face and outstretched servo flashed across his optics. He shook the image away and continued in Wing’s tracks.

He followed Wing into an elevator accompanied by the couple he had seen earlier. The small mech stood as far away from Deadlock as possible clinging to his sparkmate’s arm. His sparkmate’s optics didn’t leave Deadlock’s frame.. He was being watched, every twitch of his servo or shift in weight was taken in by the stranger. Deadlock assumed the mech felt the same way about Decepticons as Axe. With every passing second Deadlock grew dangerously close to making a scene. These bots knew nothing about him. They hadn’t seen him in action. They had no reason to look at him like that. No reason to look down on him like that. All they knew was the symbol on his chest, not why he wore it or what it meant to him. If people were going to look down on him and be afraid, he would give them a reason to be at least.

“Drift, this is our floor.” It took Deadlock a second to realize he was being addressed. He hadn’t gone by that name in years. His optics finally left the large mech that had been staring him down, and moved to Wing holding the doorway to keep the doors from closing. Deadlock followed Wing’s path out of the elevator, and shot one last glare over his shoulder as it closed.

The Decepticon began properly examining his new surroundings. An apartment, and a very large one at that. It was just as pristine and immaculate as the rest of Crystal City, but slightly more lived in. Stacks of data pads littered tables and furniture, a training dummy and weapons rack stood in a far corner, paintings donend the walls, and there were multiple pots filled with the planet’s flora. It was far nicer than anywhere Deadlock had ever stayed.

“So you’re under orders to drag me around? I’m hurt, I thought you wanted to be my friend because of my charming personality.” Deadlock began absently walking around the room, touching things he probably shouldn’t be.

“Your personality certainly is...Something.” Wing smiled and motioned for Deadlock to follow him down the hall. “I’ve never had a guest before, so the room is a little empty, but you’ll be staying here.” Wing slid the door open and they both looked into the barren room. A large window overlooking the city took up most of the furthest wall. To the right was a recharge slab with storage compartments on either side, and on the wall across from it was a large monitor. “But..If you must know. I asked for you to stay.” Wing moved from the doorway to let Deadlock in.

“Why?”

“Why have you been following me around all day?” Wing shrugged and walked back down the hall. Deadlock watched the back of the other mech disappear around the corner before he entered his quarters. He walked over to the window first and looked out on the city far below. All the optic burning lights had been dimmed, creating the illusion of night in the underground city. The neon glow of open shops and headlights racing across roads littered the darkness below like stars. The beauty of the view and Crystal City itself wasn’t lost on Deadlock. He had never been this high up unless it was in a warship, he had never seen a city so beautiful that hadn’t been bombed or burned to cinders. He hadn’t lived in luxury a day in his life, his life had took such a drastic turn his processor struggled to catch up. He needed rest.

He vented heavily and turned to the berth. It was far bigger than his new frame and had piles of cloth neatly folded at the end. Blankets, he thought that’s what they were called at least. Soft unnecessary things, reserved for those with money to spare and berths to lay them on. So Deadlock had never seen one before. He sat on the edge of the recharge slab and smoothed a servo over the pale grey blanket. It was nice. Deadlock wasn’t used to describing pleasant things, so nice was all that he could conjure up.  He pulled the blanket over his lap and allowed himself a moment to relish in the gentle warmth it provided.He could certainly see why they were so desired, despite their inherit uselessness. They were a simple creature comfort. But he still felt the intrinsic need to cover himself with it as he laid down to recharge. Deadlock stared up at the ceiling and rubbed the edge of the blanket between his digits until his optics offlined.


End file.
